So I don't know you anymore. I like fake tattoos cause their bright and sugar sticky and don't hurt a bit. And when you're in preschool and clumsy with your rattle toy heart when you trip and scrape like a baby deer, somebody with warm hands helps you stick them on with a sponge that makes squish sounds. But they're fake, and they wash off easy with time. Maybe that adds some insight to the situation.
I'm the somebody now. Even if my warm somebody hands are shaking cold.
It's alright alright alright. And the sun is shining somewhere, but maybe not with me. And it's alright alright alright. And it's gotta be. Gonna be.
